Shakespeare In Love
by Two-Bits
Summary: Shakespeare. That's her name. The name of the girl with whom I am officially in love.
1. Default Chapter

Shakespeare.

That's her name.

The name of the girl with whom I am officially infatuated.

Yes, I, Anthony Racetrack Higgins, am in love with a girl who's named Shakespeare.

Shakespeare, known to her mother as Lia Giovanni, is my best friend, so you can somewhat understand my predicament.

Okay, first off, let me introduce you to my group.

Over there, working on his English paper, that's Specs David, our brainiac. He spends all his time doing homework, and every extra credit thing he can find. While a good day for us is when we _don't_ have homework, a good day for Specs is when we have a paper in every class and extra credit, too! Yeah, he's weird. But he also loves U2, and the Matrix movies.

The one who's on the verge of fainting over his best friend's love for schoolwork, that's Dutchy Durecht. He is, like I said, best friends with Specs, and, surprisingly enough, is completely different from Specs. He despises everything about school, and everything within school. Wait, don't start thinking he's normal just yet. He despises all good music whatsoever. He, instead, likes Les Miserables, Oliver!, Forty-Second Street, Wicked, and almost every Disney classic imaginable, especially Anastasia, The Little Mermaid, and Peter Pan.

Then there's Skittseroo, but if you ever call him that, you might as well dig your own grave. Skittery, as he has so adequately been dubbed, suffers from acute paranoia, and therefore jumps at the slightest sounds. He spends his time picking up weird, random hobbies, and then he teaches them to us. Currently, he's teaching us Morse Code.

That's Two-Bits. She's the only girl in our group, other than Shakespeare. She's kind of a little bit of all of us. She loves U2, action movies, musicals, head-banger music, and random hobbies. She and Shakespeare have allied themselves against the boys, "for fear of going insane," according to them.

Oh, and that's Snitch, Two-Bits's brother. (She was adopted.) He's a spaz. There's not much to be said, except that he's a kleptomaniac, and therefore loves all those spy/steals-something-really-heavily-guarded movies.

Anyway, I'm in love with Shakespeare, as I said before.

And the Valentine's Day dance is next week.

Oh, joy.


	2. Chapter 2

Shoutouts!

LyingUnder-BlueMoons: NEW REVIEWER! -grooves-

Kid Blink's Dreamer: -pouts- Bu-but I LOVE slash! Anyway, you can't stop me! There WILL be slash! But just sideline slash. Fear not.

Nosilla: Nozzy, darling, there's a number on my profile that tells you.

Pancakes: Apparently you can say "I love all your newsies work."

Unkown-Dreams: Indeed indeed. There's just one problem.

Slightly: She has no plot.

Shut it!

* * *

So, I guess I ought to tell you how I came to realize that I love Shakespeare. 'Cause otherwise, you're probably thinking, _This guy's seventeen! How does he know what love is!_ Well, trust me on this. It's love. 

So, anyway, we just had Christmas break, so we had no school. All my friends live in the near vicinity of each other except for Specs, but he practically lives with Dutchy anyway. So, we were planning to get together on Boxing Day (because Two-Bits is obsessed with all things British) and exchange gifts. Only problem is, Shakespeare wasn't there.

"Where's Shakes?" I asked when I entered Snitch's living room to find previously mentioned girl missing. Two-Bits rolled her eyes like she always does when I forget something important.

"She's on a cruise, remember?" she said impatiently. I frowned, trying to remember if someone had told me this, or if I had been neglected. A vague image of Specs saying something about the Bahamas came forth, but I was playing XBox. Silly Specs. He should know by now that one can never get through to a boy with his video games.

"Oh, I forgot," I said, blankly. I sat down in the circle and emptied my garbage bag of gifts into the huge pile of presents. Snitch was Santa Clause this year, and he picked up a package at random and checked the tag.

"Specs, this is for you, from Dutchy," he said, tossing him the slightly heavy book. We all watched eagerly as Specs opened his gift, suppressing smirks. Specs always got the worst presents (Encyclopedias, calculators, that sort of thing) but he adored them. This one was an English to Dutch dictionary, becaus Dutchy speaks Dutch. His face lit up and he threw his arms around Dutchy, hugging him tightly and babbling out thank yous.

"Now we can speak Dutch together!" he positively squealed. Two-Bits and I made faces at each other. Specs and Dutchy were like newly-weds, only they'd been this way since the fourth grade.

"Skittery, here's one for you from me," Snitch said, tossing another package to Skittery. (It was a guide to Morse Code, which began his attempt to teach it to us.) We proceeded this way for the next hour and a half, until Snitch said, "Race, this one's from Shakespeare."

My stomach clenched as I caught the package, and I mildly wondered if I was getting sick to my stomach. I tore it open with almost hesitant fingers and found a piece of notebook paper taped to a cardboard box. I pulled it off and read Shakespeare's slanting writing.

_Race--This is for you when you go all "Mafia-wannabe." And, I suppose it's udeful when it's cold outside. Miss you a lot. Love, Shakes_

I chuckled. It was our joke that we're in the mafia, since we're both Italian. I opened the box and pulled out a black sports jacket with yellow stripes going down the arms. On the back in yellow calligraphy, it said "Racetrack."

"Awesome!" I exclaimed, pulling it on. I stood up and posed, allowing the others to admire the jacket. "There's more," Skittery said slowly, tapping out each word as he did so. I glanced back in the box and found a black cabbie hat. Grinning, I pulled it on as well.

"I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," I said in a rough, overly-accented voice. The others laughed and applauded.

That night in bed, I kept staring at the picture I had of me and Shakespeare at the waterpark. I couldn't stop thinking about her. She'd gone away before, and every time she did, I'd go into a subconscious withdrawel until she was back. But it didn't show on the outside, so no one noticed. Sometimes even _I_ didn't notice.

But as I laid in bed, snuggling into the warm jacket Shakespeare had given me, and stared at her picture, I noticed that I missed her. A _lot._

Suddenly, I sat up in bed as realization hit me with a baseball bat. _I had a crush on Shakespeare!_


End file.
